Businesses should not attack the master of PR – they should learn from him instead

Richard Branson is the ideal case study on intelligent public relations

In his new book, Richard Branson details fights he won against airlines and mobile phone companies (Getty Images)

When the late Lord King chaired British Airways he would check the ornaments and pictures in his office for bugs – so paranoid was he about Richard Branson.

I was reminded of this episode while reading Branson’s new autobiography, Finding My Virginity. In the early 1990s, BA was desperately trying to fend off Branson and his fledgling Virgin Atlantic airline. With its emphasis on customer service, in-flight entertainment and comfort, the newcomer was challenging BA’s long-haul business.

BA’s response was to launch an all-out offensive. Virgin passengers would find themselves approached at airports and asked if they would consider switching to BA; the incumbent offered price reductions; an aggressive marketing campaign ensued.

More than that, though, BA targeted Branson himself. Private detectives were dispatched to pore over his life and financial affairs. Stories were circulated: he had long hair, was a bit of a hippy, so he must be involved in drugs; he was running his planes on a shoestring, they were not being maintained properly and he could not afford the fuel bills; he was dodging taxes; he’d stolen the idea for Virgin Atlantic from someone else; much of what he attempted ended in failure, except these disasters were hidden from view; his empire was built on sand.

As a journalist whose brief then included aviation, I was on the receiving end of this nonsense. This is just some of it – there was much, much more.

BA, though, also took another tack: because it was behaving in one way, it believed Branson must be doing the same. Hence King’s paranoia. Hence, too, the theft by a private investigator of the dustbin belonging to a journalist they suspected of being in receipt of anti-BA material from Virgin. The detective was apprehended – when the police searched him they found a list of addresses he was to visit. My house was next.

BA’s problem was one of hubris. It simply could not accept that the national flagship carrier, “the world’s favourite airline” as it liked to see itself, was capable of being threatened by a cheeky upstart with no industry experience. Branson, said King, was “too old to rock, too young to fly.”

In 1993, the onslaught ended disastrously for BA as Branson, who refused to be cowed, went to court and won. King was publicly humiliated.

BA was not alone. In his book, Branson details other fights he’s had, and won, with other airlines, mobile phone companies and a lottery firm.

He was what we now refer to as a disruptor, an entrant who would take a sector by the scruff of the neck and give it a good shaking, displaying a completely different approach and model.

Nothing has changed in the 25 or so years since BA was throwing everything at Virgin. The newbie can expect to be roughed up. There will be attempts to poach its staff; and to steal its intellectual property. Journalists, politicians and regulators will be told its method is flawed, compliance and adherence to standards is suspect, it’s not to be trusted and won’t exist long-term.

Too often they will follow the BA example, and fail to hold a mirror up to themselves. King and his cohorts simply refused to accept that Branson knew what he was doing. Instead of looking at his offering and comparing it with theirs, and improving theirs, they convinced themselves he was up to no good.

On the public relations side, they were not capable of realising that he was a brilliant, natural self-promoter. I recall taking the train from London Victoria to Gatwick with Branson. Even that was telling – King would never have taken the train.

We sat in a Standard class carriage (I’d headed for First Class, assuming that’s where he’d sit, only to find him in Standard) and when the drinks trolley arrived, Branson proceeded to buy coffees and teas for anyone sitting near him who wanted them. He did it easily, without any fuss.

Later, when I told this tale – and how at the station and airport, he’d posed for what today would be called selfies, and when I left him, back at Victoria, he joined the queue for black cabs – to a BA senior executive I was treated to a sneer. It was all a put up job, he said. This “man of the people” image was a front for something calculating and cynical.

Branson recounts how he was fronting The Rebel Billionaire on US television, and received a broadside from Donald Trump, then presenting his rival programme, The Apprentice. Wrote Trump: “I wonder out loud how you can be anywhere close to a billionaire… Perhaps the title of your show, The Rebel Billionaire is misleading?”

The Virgin boss fired back that he would not denigrate Trump personally but added he disagreed with some of his “10 rules for success” and cited two of them. “Your advice for people not to shake hands – and your advice that you should go all out to get your own back on anyone who crosses you.”

For anger and bafflement, see King and Trump. For PR genius, read Branson.

Chris Blackhurst is a former editor of ‘The Independent’, and executive director of C|T|F Partners, the campaigns and strategic communications advisory firm